Arrrr I knew wot ye wuz goin on about...that blaggard Nef Yoo baint be fit ta work in thee Benbow's Kitchen an thee last person who went down in thee cellar to arsk why his sandwich kept runnin away from his plate, never returned!

Just don't let that Scottish bloke in again, says I, it took thee Benbow four months ta restock thee cellar arter his last visit!

The smoke wafted gently in the breeze across the poop deck and all seemed right in the world.

That is indeed myself followed by young Master Nef Yoo (in his Sunday finery) pushing the collecting chest. I must say Master Nef Yoo has been a God send, he never fails to look after all of the collecting duties of the Parish, and if his devout work continues we are considering appointing him to official treasurer. Although it must be said the takings are very low at the moment, so much so I'm beginning to suspect there must be a hole in the bottom of the chest.

Give a man a packet of spaghetti and he can give his family food for a day. But give that man a spaghetti plant and he can give his whole village something to talk about.